Immediately on his incarceration, he sent for Mr. Wallingford, who visited him without delay. He found him a shrinking, cowed, and frightened culprit; not a man, conscious of rectitude, and therefore firm in bearing, though in a false and dangerous position.
“This is a bad business, Mr. Wallingford,” he said, on meeting the lawyer—“a very bad business; and I have sent for you as a professional gentleman of standing and ability, in order to have a consultation in regard to my position—in fact, to place myself wholly in your hands. I must have the best counsel, and therefore take the earliest opportunity to secure your valuable services. Will you undertake my case?”
“That will depend, Mr. Dewey,” was answered, “entirely upon how it stands. If you are falsely accused, and can demonstrate to me your innocence, I will defend you to the utmost of my ability, battling your accusers to the last. But if, on the contrary, you cannot show clean hands, I am not the one to undertake your case.”
Dewey looked at Mr. Wallingford strangely. He scarcely comprehended him.
“I may have committed mistakes; all men are liable to error,” he replied.
“Mistake is one thing, Mr. Dewey, and may be explained; fraud is another thing, and cannot be explained to mean any thing else. What I want you to understand, distinctly, is this: If your connection with the Clinton Bank has been, from the beginning, just and honorable, however much it may now seem to be otherwise, I will undertake your case, and conduct it, I care not through how great difficulties, to a favorable issue. But if it has not been—and you know how it stands—do not commit your fate to me, for I will abandon you the moment I discover that you have been guilty of deliberate wrong to others.”
The countenance of Mr. Dewey fell, and he seemed to shudder back into himself. For some time he was silent.
“If there is a foregone conclusion in your mind, that settles the matter,” he said, at length, in a disappointed tone.
“All I ask is clear evidence, Mr. Dewey. Foregone conclusions have nothing to do with the matter,” replied Mr. Wallingford, “If you know yourself to be innocent, you may trust yourself in my hands; if not, I counsel you to look beyond me to some other man.”
“All men are liable to do wrong, Mr. Wallingford; and religion teaches that the door of repentance is open to every one.”